What's Up, Buttercup? (Vexatious Valkyries Book 1)

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What's Up, Buttercup? (Vexatious Valkyries Book 1) Page 10

by Jane Cousins


  A few more determined souls haunted the Valkyrie drinking holes, Vag bunnies, their nickname. Most Valkyries steered well clear of them, as they reeked of neediness and weakness.

  She didn’t believe Galen would degenerate to that level after sex with her. He’d already proven how controlled and focused he could be. She respected that, him, surprisingly. But at the same time that throbbing ache between her legs demanded Stephanie test her mettle against his. He was a challenge. One she intended to win.

  Galen Darvyn would be hers… in the sack, for an hour or two… maybe a night. Though since they were trapped in this cavern together and he did have that magnificently muscular body, and proven stamina, using him at her leisure struck a chord within her. More than that, it sent the throbbing between her legs into a double timed frenzied polka like beat which was exceedingly uncomfortable.

  Yeah, she was definitely a ticking time-bomb here. If she didn’t have sex with the Demon and soon, who knows what carnage she might wreck. Given that, why was she wasting time in the hot spring doing laps?

  Heaving herself out of the water, Stephanie found herself grinning in anticipation. Utilising her irresistible and stealthy Valkyrie wiles, it would only be a matter of time before the Demon was just another notch on her bedpost. Boo-yah!

  * * *

  It was official, Lucifer loathed him. It was diabolical the torture that was being visited upon him. Yet, at the same time, Galen couldn’t help but feel he was making progress with the Valkyrie. Infuriatingly slow, incremental progress, but still, how else to explain the reason she was so determinedly sticking by his side day as well as night now?

  Surreptitiously, he stole a glance her way. Shit, she was all things adorable, curled up in the red velvet armchair across from his, her face animated, issuing the occasional snorting laugh, that he found all kinds of cute.

  For three days now she had stuck tenaciously by his side. Her reasoning? That she was trying to help pin down his preferences in regards to a perfect soul mate, so he could hunt her down as soon as they were rescued from this cavern.

  Stephanie had even managed to dig up a clipboard from somewhere that she kept within reach at all times. Proclaiming that she was making a list of desirable characteristics and qualities. That any time a new attribute struck him, he was to tell her immediately, so she could add it to the list.

  So far the page remained blank.

  The first morning she’d begun hovering over him whilst he attempted to do some paperwork she’d radiated genuine patience. Managing the occasional warm, ready and eager to be helpful smile.

  That thin veneer had quickly worn away after about five minutes and he was left with a looming Valkyrie that huffed out unconscious, impatient sighs every two minutes. Unconsciously clicked her fingers and shifted constantly from foot to foot. With of course additional bouncing added in, just to really take the torture level up a notch. More telling, when Stephanie wasn’t sighing, she was grinding her teeth.

  It had been pure self-defence on his part to actually find her something to do. Handing over a spare tablet, and calling up the Rainter file. Requesting she review the case notes and court transcripts, looking for any hint of where his client’s soon to be ex had hidden his assets.

  Stephanie had accepted the task with a roll of her eyes. Issuing a put upon sigh but all too quickly she’d thankfully become caught up in the case of the missing millions.

  Damn, if he didn’t love watching her enjoy herself. Legs folded up underneath her. Stephanie’s blue eyes flashed occasionally with amusement, sometimes seethed in anger, other times disbelief and shock made her furrow her brow. Often she snorted. Hissed. Cackled. Growled. Laughed. A kaleidoscope of mixed emotions as she delved deeper and deeper into the frustrating mysterious case of where abusive asshole, Gil Rainter, had socked away his assets.

  For the last two mornings she’d displayed a real eagerness to get back to the file. Only pausing when it was her turn to fix lunch or dinner. Insisting they share the responsibility of meal preparation.

  There was no mention made of the night she’d gotten drunk and stripped naked. Purely out of self-defence, Galen refrained from bringing it up, as the accompanying flashbacks just caused his cock to futilely sit up and beg for a scrap of the Valkyrie’s attention.

  Her new behaviour puzzled him. The looming? The never straying too far from his side?

  He’d been desperate for any excuse to get Stephanie off his lap the other evening. The fact that she was seemingly earnest in helping him define his perfect mate, it was… perplexing.

  A helpful Valkyrie? Sure, if someone needed killing.

  But this, the clipboard, the eager looks sent his way any time he looked too thoughtful. Pen poised at the ready to record any nugget he might drop that could help narrow down the search for his perfect mate.

  He just couldn’t work out what the Valkyrie’s end game was with this new strategy of hers. Unless it was to slowly drive him insane with horniness and frustration. If that was the case, she was getting closer and closer to her goal every day, every hour.

  “Oh, I love this part.” Stephanie jabbed a finger at the tablet, looking up at Galen and grinning. Damn, next level torture. “When you trick Rainter into admitting in court that he had a string of affairs. What a butthole.”

  “Yes, that was rather satisfying. Even though I had a ton of photographic evidence to drop on him if he didn’t.”

  “I get why you do this now. Talk about a battle of words and wits. But you still don’t know where the money is.”

  “I have some specialists and forensic accountants looking into it, but sometimes just studying the subject, his history, the words he uses, or doesn’t use, can give us clues. Plus, a fresh perspective never hurts.”

  Stephanie smiled, this was nice, them, talking, laughing. She hadn’t witnessed Galen have a weak moment she could exploit as yet. Though she had been a little distracted getting caught up in the desperate case of Shelly Rainter. Who really should have taken a carving knife to her abusive soon-to-be-ex years ago.

  Feeling that perhaps she’d gotten a little side tracked, Stephanie scooped up the clipboard, holding it aloft. “Anything yet?” Pen in her hand, expectation in those baby blue eyes of hers.

  “Yes, actually. Put down that my perfect woman should laugh with abandon.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I want a woman who chortles, snorts, sniggers, cackles and guffaws, and could care less what other people think about her. But absolutely no giggling.”

  “Um, okay.” Stephanie made a note of his request. “Anything else?”

  “I’ll let you-” Galen’s words cut off as an electronic beeping abruptly sounded, emanating from his briefcase.

  Surprise, then anger, settled on Stephanie’s face as she glared his way. “You have a phone? And you didn’t think to mention that earlier?” She leaned over, yanking his briefcase on to her lap, rummaging through the contents.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Okay then, what do I think? That we could have called someone to come get us out of here two weeks ago? Hah.” Stephanie had found the cell phone. “How do I…?” She stabbed at the screen but it remained frustratingly blank. “Does it need to be recharged or something?”

  “I turned it off. Besides, it won’t work down here, under all this rock.”

  “So how did someone just send you a text message?” Stephanie was turning it over, trying to figure out what was wrong with it.

  “It’s the Queen’s Shamans and their bloody magic. Somehow they’ve accessed my phone and keep sending me reminders about ridiculous meet and greet events that the Queen has organised for the bridal candidates. She’s peeved I’ve only committed myself to attending one party. The bloody nail in the coffin - make a choice - forced meld event.” Galen held his hand out, indicating he wanted his phone back.

  “Oh.” Stephanie was surprised to find that she was a little relieved the phone wasn’t working. Not because she
didn’t want to get out of the cavern. But now that she’d pledged that she would fuck the Demon, she really wanted to see that vow fulfilled. In keeping with her charade, she forced herself to ask. “What if your perfect soul mate is present at one of those events?”

  “Trust me. A Conflict Demoness attending one of the Queen’s parties is only there to throw her hat into the ring, declaring herself open to a forced meld. Which means money, power and politics drive her. Not exactly soul mate material. Besides, parading around like a prime bit of steak that’s about to hit its used by date, is not my idea of a good time. I’d rather be here, on this wonderful plane, getting my ass kicked by a Battalion of Valkyries.”

  “And paying for the privilege.”

  “Gladly paying for the privilege.” Their fingers touched as Stephanie passed over the dead phone, and either one or both of their hands spasmed ever so slightly. The phone gave a small, electronic beep to signal it was powering on. “Shit.” Galen grabbed the phone and began stabbing at a button on the side.

  “What’s wrong?” Stephanie leaned forward clutching the clipboard and tablet tightly, sensing Galen’s dismay.

  “The bloody Shamans can track my phone if it is turned-”

  The air beside Galen’s chair shimmered hazily. Stephanie was already on the move, launching herself forward as a heavily cloaked figure appeared from nowhere, a grey gloved hand clutching at Galen’s shoulder. Shit, where did it come from?

  Stephanie found herself wedged up tightly against the intruder’s weirdly bony back. Her arm wrapped around its throat, pressing the edge of the clipboard hard against where she was guessing under all that material its trachea would be.

  It was too late to stop the Shaman from translocating out of the cavern with Galen, but given her tight hold, the magical bastard had no choice but to take Stephanie along for the ride.

  Two seconds later they rematerialized, Stephanie unconcerned to discover a plethora of swords hovering inches away from her face. Interesting. Still, she didn’t release her hold on the grey cloaked asshole who’d kidnapped her and Galen, bringing them heavens knows where. Although she had a pretty good idea. Given the black uniforms of the Guards holding all those swords and the red insignia front and centre on their black vests.

  “Stephanie.” Galen straightened slowly. Not wanting to startle the Valkyrie. These idiots probably had no idea he was trying to save their lives and they were seconds away from a violent and bloody death. “It’s okay. Let the Shaman go. Everything is fine.”

  Stephanie waited a pointed five seconds, she might not be able to see the creature under the cloak but she could enjoy the sound of him struggling to breath for just a little while longer. She wanted him to be very clear that she could have taken his head clean off is she so chose. Just in case he had any more little magical surprises up his flowing sleeves.

  “Well, well, that was all very dramatic, Galen. I hope you got all the theatrics out of your system. Mother expects you to behave yourself whilst you are here. She’s been in a foul mood with you ever since you disappeared off the radar. I wouldn’t push her any further, if I was you.”

  Stephanie gave the Shaman a small shove away from her, the Guards lowering their swords and backing off slightly. Useless morons. They had no idea what kind of threat she represented. For the moment, until she could work out exactly who the main players were, she intended to keep it that way.

  Her gaze locked on the man, Demon, who was taunting Galen. That was weird. The smiling asshole who liked the sound of his own voice could, from a distance, and in bad light, be Galen’s twin brother.

  His hair was black and so were his eyes. But the more she looked at him, the more she realised he was a poor, wannabe copy. Yes, he was the same height as Galen, but only because he had lifts built into his expensive looking black shoes. His robust build? It only looked broad and muscular due to the expert tailoring of his designer suit and cleverly concealed shoulder pads.

  A sharp eyed Valkyrie saw all her enemies’ weaknesses.

  Hmmm… this close there were a number of other glaring differences. A slight weakness in the jaw. The lips, not as full as Galen’s, and certainly not sensual. His nose was bigger too, with a slight, all but imperceptible hook, that merely kept him wading in the handsome pool and not the magnetic one Galen swam in.

  “Why am I here, Welst?”

  “That’s Prince Welst, to you Cousin.”

  Prince? Cousin? Things were becoming clearer by the second. The Queen, Galen’s aunt, was certainly taking a personal interest when it came to her nephew. It explained why all the Palace Guards were focused upon Galen and kind of ignoring her. They were scared Galen might have turned full on Berserker.

  “I’m compelled to enquire after your health. Just how are you feeling these days?” Welst’s dark eyes glittered with eager anticipation. The Demon couldn’t hide his glee. He was all but giddy and failing badly to hide his delight.

  Galen fought the urge to smile, or give Welst any indication that his symptoms were a lot more carnal of nature of late, thanks to meeting Stephanie, his destined soul mate. Welst would take great pleasure in fucking things up for Galen. He’d been doing it since they were imps tussling around in the fire pits. Bastard always trying, and mostly failing, to get him in to trouble.

  Forcing a frown was not difficult, given he’d just been wrenched out of the perfect place where he had the Valkyrie alone and could work on ingratiating himself into her heart and soul in peace and quiet. Now they were here at the Conflict Demon Court. Where he would be forced to deal with aggravating royal relatives, their sycophant hangers on, plus nosy Staff and hovering Guards. All who would have been ordered to watch him like a hawk and report back to the Queen if he stepped so much as a toe out of line.

  “So considerate, enquiring about my health, Welst. Have no fear, my control remains steady.” He gifted the irritating bastard a broad, superior grin, flashing his teeth, imagining taking a bite out of his cousin and letting that idea shine in his eyes.

  Welst shifted over slightly, unconsciously stepping closer to the circle of Palace Guards. “Good to hear, mother will be so pleased her timeline for your meld wedding doesn’t have to be expedited. She does hate when her plans are changed at the last minute. Unless you have decided to forego the forced meld ceremony, and honour her Battalion on the Western Front with your presence?”

  “No.” Galen kept his answer brief and succinct.

  Disappointment flickered in Welst’s eyes before his gaze settled upon Stephanie, a smile suddenly lifting the edges of his lips. Avarice glinting in the dark depths of his eyes. “Hello, and just who do we have here?”

  “Stephanie, she’s-”

  “Galen’s executive assistant.” She held aloft the clipboard and tablet. They were good props for explaining away her role here and wouldn’t raise any red flags.

  “Welcome to my home, beautiful Stephanie.”

  Stephanie fought not to laugh as Welst gifted her with what she was guessing he thought was a seductive look but instead reminded her of a peacock suffering a bad case of gas. “Thank you.” She nodded in acknowledgement, fluttering her lashes and trying to look like she didn’t have a thought in her head.

  The fact his cousin had entered the unmated Knustabber phase and was facing a forced meld had delighted Welst when he heard the news. But staring at the big, solid asshole, standing there, looking like he thought he was so much fucking better than him, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to hurt Galen. Arriving here with his blonde, buxom, bimbo secretary in tow, it was the perfect opportunity to really twist the knife.

  He did so love taking things away from Galen. The idea of possessing this beautiful woman who worked for his cousin suddenly struck Welst as an excellent way of rubbing salt into an open wound. Better still, given the tight Palace security and who his mother was, there wasn’t a damn thing Galen would be able to do about it. Welst’s smile widened slightly as he re-focused upon Stephanie.

  “I’m
afraid we weren’t prepared for Galen to arrive with an entourage. An unfortunately, the Palace is rather crowded at the moment. So many families here with eligible daughters. But I’ll personally arrange accommodation for you-”

  “There’s no need. Where Galen goes, I go.” Stephanie produced a pen from somewhere and lifted it to the clipboard, poised and ready. “You never know when he will have a brilliant notion that will crack a case wide open. I, of course, will sleep on the floor by his bed if necessary, in case he mutters something important in his sleep.”

  “Um.” Welst tried his best to hide his annoyance. Separating these two was important to his grand plan of seducing the blonde. “Okay. Excellent. Now, on to other matters, whilst we have suitable clothes for Galen, we don’t have anything for you. Perhaps during the parties, while Galen meets his potential brides, you would allow me to escort you around the Palace and point out places of interest? My own rooms are particularly stylish.”

  Stephanie blinked several times as if she were thinking hard. “An executive assistant to someone of Galen Darvyn’s stature is always prepared. I shall find suitable clothes to attend the events.”

  Welst badly wanted to protest but if he showed his hand, Galen would guess what he was planning and lock the blonde bimbo in his suite for the duration of his stay here at the Palace. “Lovely, then I shall look forward to seeing you later this evening. In case you have forgotten, there are four events scheduled over the next five days. A list is on the nightstand. You have…” Welst checked his expensive diver’s watch. “…forty minutes to make an appearance at tonight’s cocktail event. I wouldn’t want you getting lost so I’ll leave a squad stationed outside your door to show you the way.”

  “Thank you, Welst. Considering all the guests here currently and with housekeeping no doubt stretched thin, it was kind of you to volunteer to welcome me. Please drop by with some extra towels when you get a moment.”

  Welst swept out with the cloaked Shaman and squadron of Guards close on his heels. Leaving Galen to get better acquainted with the luxury suite, or more accurately, the prison that would be his and Stephanie’s home for the foreseeable future.

 

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